


Keen

by grayorca, YearwalktheWorld



Series: Skynet: 900 [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Platonic Relationships, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 22:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18040265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayorca/pseuds/grayorca, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearwalktheWorld/pseuds/YearwalktheWorld
Summary: Wings AU. You come intomyhouse -





	Keen

**Author's Note:**

> Post _Pegged_ and _Birddog_ , another mini-fic tangent to keep another unique idea satisfied. Because where’s the fun in having one at a time?
> 
> Can you guess our new faceclaim? She’s played this kind of role before...

Supposedly, Noah had missed out. Gavin Reed’s former Camaro was now rusting in a scrapyard somewhere, and the department-issue cruiser the detective had been allocated was not spacious enough to accommodate a humanoid body with wings affixed to its back. Half-jokingly, Gavin suggested his partner downgrade to something with a shorter wingspan so that they may ride together.

Said suggestion was met with the flattest of looks.

For the moment, Noah was content with making rendezvous as needed. Today that included unceremoniously perching atop the cruiser’s roof, forward of it’s lightbar. The vehicle would make for a nice launching platform once they decided how to tackle the newest problem slid across Reed’s desk. Because even if the abandoned property looked just that - abandoned - that was no reason to get cavalier.

Ever the ray of optimism, Gavin indulged in a smoke break while they reviewed what they knew for sure: which was barely enough to fill half a page.

“Jesus. My disciplinary sheets have more details than this!” he complained after a moment, taking the cigarette out of his mouth to take a deep breath. He set (tossed) the tablet into the empty passenger seat. “And they send us on this shit?”

Them. As opposed to a couple of wet-behind-the-ears rookies.

No, it wasn’t a homicide. And Noah didn’t expect to find a body somewhere in the abandoned premises. The only thing that stood out to him in the complaint was just what the witness had seen.

“If it’s the same perp I’m considering, Detective, there may yet be an unconnected shoplifting case we can tie this to. The plaintiff claims to have seen them traveling to-and-from this location for at least a month.”

Smoke puffed out the window below his heel. Caught by the very-prevelant breeze, it quickly blew away into nothing. Noah glanced down to better appreciate the semi-distraught reaction.

“Aw, shit, that one? Great. Well, don't go chasin’ after it if they fly away, then, don't need you hurt again.” Crossing one arm around himself, Gavin glared back out at the building in front of them. “Well, guess we might as well just… go in, huh?”

“Actually, I was thinking an even sweep,” Noah remarked, keeping any resentment he felt firmly shut up. “You search from the ground up, and I from the roof down.”

“Eh… fine. But seriously, don't you fuckin’ dare start chasing again if we find them, don't need the same shit to happen twice. You do that, I'll kick your ass.” Giving his warning, Gavin seemed satisfied enough to leave it at that, one hand curled around the door handle, eager to get out.

Considering himself warned, Noah vaulted from the crusier’s roof. He balanced for a moment atop the chain link fence on one foot, waited for the next gust of wind, then thrust his wings and lept aloft. The downdraft stirred an almost-stormy cloud of dust into the air.

Gavin could catch up on his own time.

——-

Fucker didn't even have the decency to say ‘okay, Gavin, got it, I won't chase after the suspect again’ before he took off.

Not that it really rankled him, but it made Gavin huff as he continued to think about it, checking on the first floor of the shitty, abandoned building. Or more like, he took glances around it, plain sight search mode only. What the fuck was there to see?

Whole lot of nothing. Well, at least Noah felt comfortable enough actually suggesting shit this time around, being the one to bring it up. Guess that was better than how they used to be, before…

Before what? What was the real turning point, between them with all this, making them finally actually work like partners, and be better friends?

Usually Gavin wouldn't think on that, because it constituted as mushy shit, stuff he imagined the stray androids Hank took in talked about daily. But every now and then, when Noah definitely wasn't around, Reed let himself ponder it.

Like right now. So, what was it? It almost seemed to be after he was shot, waking up in the hospital all groggy, mistaking his partner for Elijah. And then, of course, taking the biggest fucking risk of his life, it felt like, and actually opening up to the android.

Which, surprisingly, didn't massively backfire on him, the way he always imagined it would. Noah listened, and didn’t judge. It seemed like things had actually improved with them, as shocking as that was - Gavin was more than sure he was a fucking asshole to put up with, even after his whole pity party in the hospital.

He found a creaky wooden stairway and climbed.

Eh. Maybe it was some misguided sense of sympathy for him, all Noah’s doing, knowing his shitty life, but it felt like more than that to Gavin at least. Like he was actually being understood, instead of someone trying to figure him out for curiosity's sake.

Shit, now that was _way_ too mushy. And at the perfect time as well - soon as Gavin grimaced, shaking his head to get the spare feelings out of it, he stumbled upon the entrance to yet another cluttered room, peering inside without a second thought.

In hindsight, maybe he should have been listening a little bit more intensely.

“Count to ten, okay? It's hide and seek.” A voice spoke the moment he peered in. The words were much too high to even be considered an adult’s. “No peeking. Peeking is cheating.”

What the fuck?

Soon as he spotted them, Gavin couldn't help but let out a groan. Children? And _him?_ Now there was a rich fucking mix, if anything. The one thing he actually wished he was good at, now - talking to kids. Apparently something about him was ‘scary’ and ‘off-putting’ to little kids.

But going by the smell, how unwashed and greasy-haired the little street urchins appeared, it may prove difficult. These were kids more in need of help than just a couple of garden-variety, school-ditching minors.

And Gavin was a police officer. That meant he was to be the one helping these kids - like they would listen to him. But he had to try, even if it wasn't going to go well.

Stepping into the room, Gavin raised his hands to his chest awkwardly, palms open, showing he was unarmed, trying to find just what he should be saying. Ask them who they were? Why they were in here? The fuck should he say?

“Uh… hi. Easy, _easy_. I'm a - police officer, I'm just wonderin’ what you two are doin’ here, you're not in any trouble.”

Well, that sucked. But at least it was better than cursing them out.

Both sets of green eyes whipped around to stare at him. The boy, standing closer to the door, backed away, closer to like-faced girl. Instantly, they looked as skittish as rabbits caught in the vegetable garden, twitchy, ready to run at just the wrong word.

Crap. The odds of a successful talking-down just took a steep dive.

“Okay, okay, uh… I'm not - you're not in trouble, either of you, I promise. I'm just askin’ why you're in here, or if anyone is… here with you?” Gavin didn't advance on them, instead keeping his ground right by the door. Better than rushing up on them, at least - then they really would be bolting.

The boy’s mouth worked once before he found his voice again - a little peaky and high, but otherwise steady. “How - how do we know you’re a cop? That badge could be fake. Who are you?”

“I'm not wearin’ a - uniform, because I'm a detective, if that makes you suspicious. I'm Gavin… Gavin Reed. I have a partner - android partner, upstairs. We can go find him if you want.”

He drew a blank for what else he should be saying. Obviously, these kids weren't about to spill just why they were here, or who they were. Shit, maybe Noah would be better with them than he could be.

Gripping the edge of a set of shelves, the boy only frowned. His once-wide eyes went a few degrees narrower. “We don’t need any other androids.”

Other androids - that slip made him perk up, hands going down slowly to rest at his sides. No way he was gonna put them in his pockets, scare them any more than they probably already were. Remaining calm was the best thing Gavin could do, which, luckily, he wasn't half bad at in these types of situations.

“Other android, huh?” he repeated, trying to keep his tone as casual as he could. “They're here, then?”

Caught, the boy’s frown turned to an aggressive grimace. “We don’t need any help. Go away!”

Still a few arm lengths away from him, the girl rocked anxiously on her heels. Matted locks of hair hung in her face, eyes darting at the door again. There must not be another exit, if she hadn’t darted for it already. If they were going to run, it would be through this doorway.

Gavin wasn't going to try and grab them, nothing ridiculously idiotic like that. If they were going to run, he would follow, but there wasn't much else he could do with a couple of kids, already as hostile and scared as they already were.

“Okay, I get that you're scared, but I can't leave, yet, not with you two still here. Can you tell me what you're doing here, at least?”

“It wasn’t safe at home anymore, that’s all,” the boy admitted, huffily. Stuck between trying to look tough and not show how nervous he was, just under the surface, his hands clenched uneasily. “Kee takes care of us. We don’t need the police, or anybody else.”

“Kee - that's the android? They're taking care of you?” Ignoring the words about not needing police, Gavin asked another question instead, keeping his own hands open.

The peaceful approach abruptly proved for naught. Either the kid’s nerves got the better of him, or violence was his only remaining defense. Hissing, the boy grabbed for the nearest weapon - a rusty padlock lying on the shelf - and lobbed it like a baseball.

“I said, we don’t _need_ anyone. Go away!”

Letting out a quick “Shit!” under his breath, Gavin sidestepped the makeshift projectile by a wide margin with a grimace, forcing his hands to not immediately jam into his pockets. Fuck, so… this meeting was definitely over, it seemed like.

Or, at least, it was over just being polite questions.

Looking back up, to either swear again, or admonish them, Gavin wheeled back with surprise yet again as they both went rushing past him, clearly making way for the staircase close by. Before he could think to give chase, they were already gone from his sight.

“Hey, you little - agh, _fuck_!” Knowing they were already gone, he felt sour enough to let out the swear, tearing around the corner after them and up the steps.

This was going to be fun.

-—-

The complaint started out as a trespass allegation. Instantly, the irony of his first deployment out to Zug Island set in. Secondary to that, he noted how the addendum of the report mentioned “possible trespass/B&E, related to local business burglaries”. That was followed by at least three referring case numbers.

Thinking how odd it was that any thief would steal away to this old textile warehouse, as opposed to somewhere of more human conveniences, Noah kept his speculations to a minimum.

The verbal ones, anyway.

Upon circling the building, he found just what half-expected: a set of broken-out window frames: the ideal take-off/landing point for winged visitors. After a few experimental flybys, seeing if his mere presence was enough to incite their quarry into action, he dispensed with politeness to swoop in and alight upon the broken wooden frame. The wood creaked under his shoes, but held.

There, not two feet away on the floor, was his next best clue: broken shards of single-pane glass, coated in evaporated thirium. The once-transparent bits flowed like blue sapphires amidst a few dried blotches of cerulean.

_TW300 #041 219 990. Registered as ———-_

_record incomplete_

Noting the unusual model, Noah blinked the fragment of data away. That was odd, on the surface, never mind how deep of a problem it potentially heralded. Android identification records weren’t just for vanity. They were law. And if their suspect bore an altered pedigree, it would certainly be worth investigating.

He stepped down from the window frame. The room it faced might have been spacious, if not for the framework of several loaded rows of shelves. Aged plastic totes lined every available space. Contained within seemed to be yards upon yards of old, folded fabric.

Beyond the shelves, he spied a door, leading to a central hallway. This storage area was of no renown, save for the convenient near-rooftop exit. Where it led would either herald the next substantial clue, or - better yet - just where their wily prey thought it safe to roost.

TW300s were a most unusual sort. Most served domestic functions as maids, home healthcare givers, or menial lowend labor. Only five variants existed. And this one, while it boasted a serial number, the file photograph had also been redacted.

Dovetailing such elements was what class of which they were typically outfitted with. It was never anything too fancy, mostly generic passerine types. The roles TWs filled typically didn’t necessitate anything fancy. But that wasn’t too say some given owner couldn’t trade up -

_Incoming call: Reed, Gavin_

_Video interface: disabled_

_Accept? Ignore?_

He stopped between a set of closed doors, looking down the stairwell. Well, out of the blue as this was, Noah knew he would be in for more than an earful if he declined it.

_Beep._

“Yes, Detective?”

_“Yo, Noah - so, uh, there's definitely something weird goin’ on hereabouts. I just found two kids on the lower level, and no, they didn't tell me much until they bolted - I tried to follow, but couldn't keep up. The boy said they're bein’ taken care of by some android named Kee.”_

Knowing the futility of emoting while there was no one around to appreciate it, Noah affected a scoff instead. “Define ‘kids’.”

That was intriguing enough, without the added element of their thief somehow having a connection.

 _“Uh, seriously?”_ Gavin let out a scoff of his own, still sounding slightly out of breath from presumably running after the children. _“Like,_ kids _. Could be in fifth or sixth grade, that sort of stuff. Two of them, boy and girl - probably siblings. Doesn't look like they've taken a shower in a good while, either, so we ain't dealin’ with punks just cuttin’ class.”_

‘Runaways’ was the first word to spring to Noah’s awareness. He couldn’t remember cataloguing any missing persons reports in the vicinity of this property, as possible last-known locations. But it would seem two of those such missing persons had made a home-away-from-home if it.

Descending a few steps, Noah leaned over the railing, looking down through the stairway shaft as best he could. This building was only six stories, but that left untold number of places to hide.

Especially when one was small.

“Where did you lose track of them?”

_“Somewhere on the stairs, dude, just fuckin’ bolted. Probably around the second level, goin’ onto level three.”_

The frustration was clear in Gavin’s voice, as - to be fair - he was all too easy to annoy. Assuming the intersecting staircases were the only means of transcending one floor to the next, if Reed guarded/blocked the lower exit, the only direction left to go was up.

On a whim, Noah looked down at the same railing his hand rested on. A quick scan revealed it was covered in fingerprints of various ages, quality, and size. Most prevalent were the small, oval marks of undersized digits gripping the banisters below.

A second later, the identification result came back.

“Their names are Kyle and Natalie Benjamin. They were last seen two months, eight days ago, said to have boarded a bus leaving Springwells. …Their aunt Marissa was the one to report them missing.”

That was the condensed version. The rest could stand to wait once the children were accounted for

 _“Got it. So - what the fuck should we do? Wait this out? Go after them? Try and find that android, Kee? I'm all ears.”_ Whether Gavin had his own plan or not, he didn't mention them, instead waiting to hear what Noah's opinion was. Perhaps trying to push the android more toward making his own decisions as well.

In a way, it was somewhat misguided. Deciding how to handle the problem of apprehending two minors wasn’t something borne of his own volition. It needed to be done, regardless of anyone’s feelings on the matter.

Noah didn’t immediately point that out, ever more in favor of solving the issue than analyzing it: “Call for backup, and Child Services. I’ll search these levels, you make sure they don’t get past you.”

The kids were still on the premises. That much they knew for sure. Whoever this Kee was, wherever they were, that was one too many unknowns.

 _“Okay. Call me if anythin’ happens, okay? Goddammit, of course we always get this busy shit…”_ Gavin grumbled on the other end of the line, but accepted the course of action all the same. .

Because rA9 forbid they do their job now and again.

“Yes, Detective.” With a short eyeroll all his to appreciate, Noah ended the call. Sparing one last look over his shoulder, appreciating just how quiet and empty this top floor was, he stepped down onto the first riser.

——-

Gavin had just hung up a second time at the sound of a _thump._

At first brush, it sounded like a barrel rolling down the stairs - several _thuds_ signifying a heavy, repetitive row of impacts. Whatever the cause, it was at least two floors above his head, explaining the muffled shouts and cries peppering the new ruckus.

It definitely wasn’t the Benjamin kids making such a racket.

Topped off by one especially-loud crash, the telltale sign of an old, moldy floor giving way, the ceiling of the storage room beside the stairwell promptly collapsed. Through a new rain of dust, filthy pink insulation and splintered wood, two winged bodies fell, one atop the other.

“Holy _fuck!_ ” Gavin yelped, almost frozen by the sight, before rushing to the doorway of the storage room, lingering outside. Whatever was going on, it didn't exactly seem like the type of thing he should get in the middle of, at least not yet.

Springing up from the chaos, perched atop her adversary, the suspect unfurled both wings with a hissing flourish. The sharp, thin feathers were a tattered beige, dotted with black and white spots. The once-pristine uniform was an unassuming tan, lacking its holographic inlays. From the wild look on the android’s face, programming was very much not a factor.

No non-deviant synthetic would be trying so hard to gouge Noah’s eyes out.

Improvising in the moment, she grabbed for a broken fragment of wall and stabbed downward.

The jagged end managed to score a gash diagonally across the RK900’s cheek before he grabbed her wrist, keeping it from plunging clean through the skin, into his mouth.

Disaster averted, he rolled sideways, thrusting a knee up into her midriff, attempting to throw the suspect off. Shrieking, she scrambled to try and regain her hold on him, tossed against a set of shelves for her trouble. Dislodged feathers flew, mingling with the haze of dust.

So _this_ was Kee, presumably? This fucking android that was taking care of two kids, despite behaving as ferally as she was? Gavin stepped into the room, unsure of just what he was doing - no way he was gonna try and corner her even more than she already was.

“Hey, hey!” he shouted, hands going back up, albeit less. If he needed to do so, he could always defend himself. “Hey - Kee?”

The shelves tipped and fell, one after another, like oversized dominoes, spilling their contents about the already-messy floor. Dislodging herself from Noah’s grip, their attacker(?) clambered up to crouch atop one of the fallen frames, hissing and spitting like an affronted cat.

Impasse reached, Noah stumbled backwards across the clutter of the former ceiling. One wing stood out at a crooked, unhealthy angle, a new broken joint where there wasn’t one before. The gash flickered and glitched, sparking blue arcs firing beyond the gash in his plastic panels. His formerly-white jacket now boasted several blue blotches, ragged tears, and streaky stains, evidence of the tooth-and-nail fight Gavin had not seen upstairs.

“She doesn’t take kindly to visitors, Detective. Keep your distance.”

Yeah, no shit. Narrowing his eyes at Noah - clumsy fucker went and got hurt _again_ , of course - Gavin did as he was told, keeping himself motionless to the scene they found themselves in, hands still slightly raised. “Yeah, I get that. Shit - this is who’s takin’ care of those kids? … _You_ are?”

He directed the last part of his question to the new android, one eyebrow raised.

The snarl dropped from her face, wings quivering with unease. With the bout of violence tabled for the moment, semi-intelligent conversation might stand in its place. “Kyle and Nattie?”

Noah made a derisive noise, reaching up to wipe away the thirium trickling down to follow the curve of his jaw. The growing stain almost completely blotted out the model number on his chest. “It would seem we’ve disturbed their little… haven, Detective. I found them a floor above, same time she found me.”

“Ah, shit… they're still up there, then.” Gavin took a careful step back, hands still open and up, eyes darting back toward the stairs. Fuck, not like they could all have some sort of meeting, right? Kee would probably tear them apart. “Okay, okay. Fuckin’... well, this is a shitshow. We gotta…”

He trailed off, not exactly sure what they needed to do. Or, well, he _was,_ but just how they were gonna execute it was eluding him. How would they get them all to the station?

Their backup would only get there so quickly.

Wings mantling, feathers puffed out with ire, Kee gave another foreboding hiss. She was acting more the animal than Gavin could ever remember seeing another tincan try to be.

What was the story with that?

Noah scoffed, not feeding into the tension, but not exactly absolving it, either. “Perhaps you should explain to her who we are? She doesn’t have good reason to listen to me, it seems.”

“Uh… okay?” Directing his attention back towards Kee, Gavin didn't exactly try for a smile, but just a calmer expression, facial features smoothed out. Smiling wasn't really his style anyways. “Okay, okay… hi, Kee. I'm Gavin, and that's Noah - we're police officers. We ain't here to hurt you, or anythin’ like that, just… just had to check. You and the kids surprised us.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. The trespass allegation had some truth to it, even if it didn’t clarify just who was doing the fence-climbing. And it probably wasn’t the likes of Kyle or Natalie.

(“Nattie.” What kind of nickname was that?)

Breathing out, not quite a hiss but still an anxious noise, Kee’s hazel-eyed glare didn’t ease off. “You, police? Both of you?”

Just like Kyle and his claims about a fake badge. What more verification did they need?

“Yeah, both of us.” Reed gestured between himself and Noah, raising an eyebrow back at him as he did so. Just what was he supposed to ask about now? “There was a - some suspicion about a break in here. We had to come check it out, that's all.”

“You were startled, afraid for Kyle and Nattie?” Noah’s tone veered closer to something considerate. “You were worried we’d try to hurt them?”

“Police hurt them, before,” Kee retorted, scowling. “Kyle said. Police are no good.”

At that, Gavin's mouth opened in surprise, before closing as he considered it. Oh, fuck - what was it that Kyle had said? It wasn't safe at their home anymore, and police hurt them, apparently, now?

It didn't take a fucking genius to put those two things together.

“We're not gonna hurt them, Kee. We're here to help.” The kids, at least. How much was there that they could do for her, though? No chance they could leave them with her, or anything close to that. “But we can't do that if we - don't know everythin’. Or you don't let us help.”

“You can’t help!” Shrill as her voice went, Kee’s wings gave another loud flap. “Police will only make it worse. Go _now_ , and don’t come back!”

Wiping once again at his bleeding face, Noah seemed to square himself up for the next round. He dated a bold step forward. “This can’t be left alone, Kee. Like it or not, you’re all coming back to the station with us.”

“But it would be a lot better if you, you know, did so willingly.” Gavin took another step backwards instead, still glancing up at the stairs again. They were gonna have to grab Kyle and Natalie soon as well, round everyone up. “We gotta bring the kids, too. Don't wanna scare them anymore than they already have been.”

Maybe it was a bit late to try and unring that bell.

Kee didn’t look scared. She looked livid, bordering on manic. It was apparently that important the Benjamin kids not be recovered. Whatever awaited them at home was evidently worse than how they were living now.

Snatching up another broken stake of wood, she lept over the fallen shelves. “You’ll not take them!”

Fuck it - Gavin went entirely on instinct when he saw the android grab another makeshift weapon. What if she hurt Noah again, worse than she already had? As much as he sort of didn't want to - was he getting soft on the tin cans? - his hands automatically reached for his holster, pulling the gun out without a second thought. Aiming at her, he didn't even think to bark out some warning for her to drop it.

Who knew if she would have understood in the heat of the moment?

No way was Kee gonna be calm with the weapon in play now, either. She wasn't the type to give up once someone backed her into a corner. Especially since she had fucking kids to worry about, who cops had hurt before - of course they weren't just gonna come with them.

With one final glance at Noah, Gavin pulled the trigger.


End file.
